


Three Freckles

by binch_over_troubled_water



Series: Jeff and Britta [2]
Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Domestic Bliss, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Love, Parenthood, Pregnant Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:21:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26221831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/binch_over_troubled_water/pseuds/binch_over_troubled_water
Summary: This is just a one-shot that didn't make it in to my previous Jeff/Britta fic ("The After Party"). Just a little slice of life while Jeff and Britta are waiting for the arrival of the babies. Canonical with the other fic, but not essential to the story, just a lil scene that didn't make the cut. Enjoy!
Relationships: Britta Perry & Jeff Winger, Britta Perry/Jeff Winger
Series: Jeff and Britta [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1904422
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Three Freckles

The cruel heat of alpine summer has turned Britta’s small apartment in to a sauna, even at the crack of dawn. Britta is snoring softly, sleeping naked above the sheets with a few strands of hair glued to the back of her neck. The sun is just barely beginning to peek through the slats in the blinds, illuminating stripes of her bare flesh. A stripe of eyelashes. A stripe of belly. A stripe of thigh. A stripe of breast. 

Jeff lies perfectly still next to her, savouring her at peace. He watches her rib cage expand and collapse with each breath. The new swell of her tummy, where he counts three perfect little freckles near her belly button. 

Her body changes every day now. The curves he’s become so familiar with are a little bit different every morning. It’s mesmerizing watching her grow, become fuller. Eight months. She’s eight months pregnant now, with his babies. The gravity of that hits him again and again, still feels new and scary and thrilling. His chest inflates with pride. He reaches protectively to rest a hand over her abdomen and she stirs, not fully awakening but lazily positioning her own hand over his. 

He marvels at the way it all fits together. Their hands stacked together, spooned perfectly around the little lives they made together. Every piece fits like it was made this way. His thumb draws gentle little circles over her skin. She’s so buttery soft, improbably so, even with the film of sweat that seems to cover every square inch of the room. 

Her eyes flutter a little, not coming all the way open. She makes a sound somewhere between a yawn and a sigh. “Hi,” she whispers and peers at him under heavy-lidded eyes. Her voice is thick with sleep. 

“Hi,” he says back, still watching her in wonderment. She squeezes his hand softly, twisting her dainty fingers around his. Jeff shimmies down the mattress, peels their hands away so he can press his lips to her the warmth of her belly. “Hi, babies.” 

Britta chuckles softly, and smooths the hair on the top of his head while he nuzzles against her. It’s getting shaggy again, thinning more than he’s ready to admit to himself, but she always tells him she likes it this way. She twists the strands around her pinkies, securing herself to him. He kisses a circle around her belly button, palms finding her sides and gripping her softly. She always insists that she’s no more delicate than before but every time he touches her now his primal instinct makes him gentle, makes him want to cosset her. Britta, the mother of his children. 

He trails a little farther down her stomach, until the slight scruff of his chin just meets the tuft of hair at the junction of her thighs. There’s a low rumble from deep in her throat and he parts her legs just a little to kiss the very tops of her thighs. Jeff always takes his time with her, and now as they’re both still half under the spell of sleep, his movements are achingly slow. The tendons of her knees, the crescent moon-shaped stretch mark on the left side of her belly, the three freckles he just found. Everything has to be kissed, memorized, treasured. 

He’s obsessed with her body, he realizes, fascinated by it. He reaches above his head to take palmfulls of her breasts that spill over, gently squeezing at what he knows are sore and tender nipples. She whimpers and finally, mercifully, his lips meet her sex and her legs go stiff around his head. She even tastes different now, sweeter, and Jeff relishes in the little mewls of delight with every stroke of his tongue. 

When he tries to look up at her, she’s partly blocked by the swell of her belly, so he props a pillow under her hips to change the angle. She’s glowing, skin slick and turning red in the oppressive heat. Her eyes flutter shut again and her head lolls back, lips parted. He loves her like this. Uninhibited, overcome with pleasure, as if nothing and no one else exists in the world. He languishes her, worships her, cherishes every involuntary roll of her hips against him, every moan that escapes her lips. Their fingers twine together at her sides and she grasps them desperately, maybe trying to anchor herself back to reality. 

When she comes he can feel it, muscles fluttering against his mouth and it’s the sweetest sensation. His head swims, he’s dizzy as a litany of  _ I love you, I love you, I love you  _ falls from Britta’s lips while her chest heaves. Finally he pulls away, grinning, and licks his lips. She’s still recovering, catching her breath. “Can I have a glass of water?” she croaks. He laughs, crawling up to kiss her and stands to pad to the kitchen. He has to adjust himself through his tented boxers and he lurches when he walks back in to the bedroom, awestruck once again by her rubenesque splendour. 

She’s splayed across their bed, unselfconscious, like his own Venus of Urbino. She wriggles herself up to her elbows and drinks from the glass eagerly. “Thank you,” she says, putting it on the side table and pulling him back down to lay beside her. 

“How do you feel?” 

She giggles, nuzzling in to his neck. Her lips are cool from the water, and it sends a welcome chill down his spine. “I feel great,” she whispers, kissing any spot of his skin she can reach. Jeff rolls her over slowly, spooning against her and allowing some relief of pressure building between his own thighs. One arm is under her, wrapped around to grasp at her breast. The other smooths over her belly between her legs to spread her open again, finding her still wet and waiting for him. Their skin practically fuses together and she grinds back on to him. She deftly reaches behind her to tug at his waistband and he springs free, hard and wanting against the small of her back. 

“Fuck,” he groans in to the back of her head. “Britta, I want you so bad.” Now more than ever. He knows it surprises her, that he keeps dragging her back to bed, month after month. She’s uncomfortable with her changing body, insecure in his attraction to her. But it’s exciting, arousing to him, to see what’s happening to her, what  _ he’s  _ done to her. What they’re creating together. There’s a possessiveness, a primal need to be as close to her as possible. He peels some of the damp hair away from the nape of her neck to kiss it sweetly, tasting the orangey perfume of her shampoo and the salt of her sweat. 

Finally, he lines up their hips and slides in to her so slowly, taking her in inches. Her breath hitches accommodating him and she leans back in to him, eager for more. He steadies himself with a hand on her waist and eases himself in all the way, unable to suppress a groan. 

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters in to her shoulder, nipping at the flesh a little as they settle in to a rhythm. He has to focus to keep himself from coming undone too quickly and sets about playing her with his fingers. She responds by clenching even tighter around him, thighs squeezing together in a spasm of pleasure. “You’re so perfect, Britta. I love you, I love you.” 

She reaches above them to brace herself on the headboard just as he starts to unfurl. He’s so close, just waiting for her cue. “I love you,” her voice is almost a growl. “Jeff, I’m gonna — ” she can’t finish the thought before she shudders, bucking back against him and writhing under his fingers. That’s all it takes to send him over the edge and he spills in to her, gasping for air and stuttering his hips in to hers. 

They lie together catching their breath, the smell of sweat and sex lingering in the air around them. “Wow,” she finally says, labouring to roll over to face him. His hands rest on the top of her belly, cradling her curves and craning his neck to kiss her forehead. “Good morning,” she’s grinning, still glowing with orgasm, with pregnancy, and with the brightening morning light. 

“Britta,” he starts, finding her eyes and watching the enlarged pupils go back to normal. “I’m so… Our time together, just the two of us. It just means so much to me, I’m so in love with you. And I’m just so…  _ so  _ excited to share our life with these babies.” 

He should know better, when she’s so hormonal, to get sappy like this. Britta bursts in to tears immediately. “M-me too,” she blubbers, somehow laughing at the same time. She’s flushed red from head to toe, cheeks ruddy. 

He wipes away a big cartoony tear, chuckling. “Britta,” he smoothes her hair affectionately. “Sorry baby, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” 

“I know,” she giggles, her eyelashes glued in to little salty triangles. “God, Jeff. I love you. I can’t wait. You’re gonna be the best dad.” 

He helps her to sit up and she leans against his shoulder, sniffling. She wraps a hand around his bicep. “I think we both need a shower,” he tells her, stroking a flaming cheek, and she guffaws again, every bit of her jiggling with her laughter. “A nice cold shower.” 

“Race you there,” she jokes, wriggling like a flipped turtle to get off of the bed. He helps her get herself upright and follows her waddle down the hallway, the two cats circling her ankles. Her hips are broader now, her ass fuller. She’s a work of art no matter how he looks at her. 

Their cold shower doesn’t stay cold for long. 


End file.
